I first heard that phrase in an AA meeting.

I was going through one of the hardest seasons of my life, and alcohol had become one of my go-to coping mechanisms. Those rooms are full of people who've figured out transformation the hard way—and I needed to be one of them.

What struck me most wasn't the stories of rock bottom. It was the honesty.

These were people who had stopped pretending. Stopped hiding. Stopped waiting for circumstances to magically improve. They'd dragged their stuff into the light and said, "This is who I've been. And I can't do it anymore."

Nothing changes if nothing changes.

It sounds obvious. Almost too simple to be profound. But after thirty years of coaching people through their hardest moments, I can tell you this phrase explains why most people stay stuck.

They want different results. They pray for different outcomes. They read the books, attend the seminars, maybe even come to a session or two.

But they don't actually do anything different.

And so nothing changes.

The Terrifying Safety of Familiar Pain

Here's something that doesn't make logical sense but is absolutely true: familiar pain feels safer than unfamiliar growth.

I've watched people stay in miserable situations for years—not because they couldn't leave, but because the misery was predictable. They knew what to expect. They'd learned how to survive it.

Growth requires stepping into the unknown. It means trying something you've never tried, which means you might fail. It means having conversations you've been avoiding, which means you might hear things you don't want to hear. It means looking at yourself honestly, which means you might not like what you see.

So people choose the devil they know.

They keep having the same fight with their spouse for the five hundredth time. They keep numbing out with food, or alcohol, or work, or Netflix. They keep reading books about change without ever actually changing.

The pain is terrible, but at least it's familiar.

What would happen if you actually tried something different? That question is terrifying. Because different might not work. Different might make things worse. Different might expose how much time you've wasted doing it the old way.

So nothing changes.

Waiting for Someone Else to Go First

This one destroys more relationships than almost anything else I see. Both people are stuck. Both people are hurt. Both people know something needs to change. And both people are waiting for the other one to go first.

"I'll be more affectionate when he starts being nicer to me."

"I'll open up when she stops criticizing everything I do."

"I'll work on my stuff after they acknowledge what they've done wrong."

It becomes this silent standoff where everyone loses. Each person has built a case for why they shouldn't have to change until the other person does. Each person is convinced they've already tried enough, given enough, compromised enough.

Meanwhile, years pass. The distance grows. The resentment deepens.

Here's the truth nobody wants to hear: You can't control whether the other person changes. You can only control whether you do. Waiting for someone else to go first is just another way of staying stuck while pretending you're ready to move. It feels justified. It feels fair. But it's still a choice to keep doing the same thing.

And nothing changes if nothing changes.

The Fear of What You Might Lose

Sometimes people stay stuck because they're afraid of what transformation might cost them. This sounds backward—why would anyone be afraid of getting better? But change always involves loss. Even good change.

If you stop being the victim, you lose the sympathy. If you stop being angry, you lose the energy that's been fueling you. If you get healthy, your unhealthy relationships might not survive. If you finally speak up, you might not like the response.

I've watched people get right to the edge of breakthrough and then sabotage themselves. They'll pick a fight. They'll skip sessions. They'll suddenly decide that things aren't really that bad.

Because deep down, they know that real change will cost them something. And they're not sure they're willing to pay.

The thing is, staying stuck costs you too. It just costs you slowly, invisibly, in ways you can learn to ignore. The price of change is obvious and immediate. The price of staying the same is hidden and cumulative.

But you're paying either way.

What Finally Breaks the Cycle

So what gets someone unstuck? What finally moves a person from knowing they need to change to actually changing?

It's different for different people. But there are some common threads.

Sometimes it's exposure.

Things that happen in the dark—behind closed doors, hidden from everyone—have a way of keeping us trapped. As long as no one sees, we can pretend it's not that bad. We can minimize. We can cope.

But when someone finally witnesses what's really going on, everything shifts.

I experienced this myself in 2018. Someone who loved me saw what was actually happening in my life. The pain I'd been enduring, the chaos behind the closed doors—it was suddenly witnessed by someone outside of it.

That exposure was brutal. But it was also the gift I didn't know I needed.

When things get dragged into the light, you can't pretend anymore. You can't hide. You're forced to look at reality and make a choice: stay stuck or start moving.

Sometimes it's exhaustion.

You reach a point where your coping strategies become more damaging than the thing you're coping with. The overeating stops working. The alcohol makes everything worse. The passivity costs you things you can't get back.

For me, I got tired of being an idiot. Tired of going into hyper-destructive mode every time I faced pain. Tired of watching myself do the same stupid things over and over while expecting different results.

There's a moment where enough is finally enough. Where the familiar pain stops feeling safe and starts feeling unbearable. Where you look in the mirror and say, "I can't do this anymore."

Sometimes it's surrender.

This is the spiritual dimension that I don't think we can ignore.

When you drag your stuff into the light—not just to other people, but to Jesus—something happens. You stop trying to manage it on your own. You stop hiding the parts of yourself you're ashamed of. You give Him access to the pain, the sin, the brokenness, all of it.

I spent years trying to white-knuckle my way through change. It wasn't until I surrendered—really surrendered—that transformation started.

Brutal honesty with yourself. Brutal honesty with others. Brutal honesty with God.

That's where change lives.

The Choice You're Making Every Day

Here's what I want you to understand: staying stuck is a choice.

It might not feel like a choice. It might feel like you're trapped, like you have no options, like change is impossible in your situation.

But every day you wake up and do the same things, you're choosing. Every day you avoid the hard conversation, you're choosing. Every day you wait for someone else to go first, you're choosing.

You're choosing familiar pain over unfamiliar growth.

I'm not saying this to shame you. I'm saying it because I've been there. I've made that choice more times than I want to admit. I've known exactly what I needed to do and refused to do it because the alternative felt too scary.

But I also know what's on the other side.

When you finally do something different—when you drag your stuff into the light, get honest with yourself, stop waiting for everyone else to change—things actually start to shift.

Not overnight. Not without struggle. But real, actual change becomes possible.

Because nothing changes if nothing changes. But everything can change if you're willing to start.

One Different Thing

You don't have to overhaul your entire life today. You don't have to fix everything at once.

But you do have to do something different.

One honest conversation you've been avoiding. One coping mechanism you put down. One step toward the light instead of staying hidden in the dark.

That's how it starts.

The people in those AA meetings taught me that transformation doesn't require perfection. It requires honesty. It requires action. It requires doing one thing different today than you did yesterday.

What's the one thing you've been avoiding?

That's probably where your breakthrough is waiting.

Ready to stop staying stuck? Check out my online courses at smalleyinstitute.com or reach out about coaching to start making real changes.

You can also text me at (303) 435-2630  or email [email protected] if you need help figuring out your next step.

What's kept you stuck? And what would it look like to finally do something different? Share in the comments—your honesty might be exactly what someone else needs to hear today.